


Twenty-Plus Years in the Making

by Forest_Girl



Series: Functionally Dysfunctional [3]
Category: Devil May Cry
Genre: (likely bc i'm forgetting things and not EVERYTHING has been written right now), Additional Warnings In Author's Note, Anal Sex, Banter, Biting, Blood, Chapters 2 and 3 are NSFW, Devil Trigger Sex (Devil May Cry), Devil Triggers have both a dick and a vagina is what I'm trying to say here, Fantasy Genitals, Feral Behavior, First chapter is SFW, Frottage, Hand Jobs, Implied DVN, Infertile Eggs, Infertility, Intersex Devil Trigger, M/M, Mating Cycles/In Heat, Multiple Orgasms, Nesting, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Overstimulation, Oviposition, Partial Devil Trigger (Devil May Cry), Penis In Vagina Sex, Relationship Discussions, Rough Sex, Scratching, Sexual Tension, Shower Sex, Vaginal Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-01
Updated: 2021-01-16
Packaged: 2021-03-02 23:34:15
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 19,091
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24485164
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Forest_Girl/pseuds/Forest_Girl
Summary: Soon after Nero decides to live with Dante and Vergil, Dante leaves for a job with the ladies, and Vergil starts acting... odd.Not that Vergil isn't odd already, but... well, Vergil may be a stand-offish prick, but eventhisfelt a little bit extreme.
Relationships: Nero/Vergil (Devil May Cry)
Series: Functionally Dysfunctional [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1534928
Comments: 31
Kudos: 313





	1. Warming Up

**Author's Note:**

> Welcome to Functionally Dysfunctional’s third story, in which my monster fucking tendencies rear their ugly heads and expose to the world exactly what kind of a kinky fuck I am.
> 
> So, before beginning, ABSOLUTELY READ THE TAGS BEFORE DIVING INTO THIS MONSTROSITY because this is gonna be a lot of nasty demon fucking. I know my usual policy is “add tags as I post new chapters” but in this scenario I want people to be aware of shit from the gate and not get squicked/triggered out. Chapter 1 is possibly an M rating due to the discussions of sex and some demon biology stuff, but the rest of this is absolutely explicit. 
> 
> Second thing for any new readers, this story is part of a series, but is somewhat stand-alone-ish. It will contain spoilers for the two prior stories, Impulse Control and Peter 5:8, but you can read this and enjoy the NSFW bits just fine. 
> 
> Finally, though I’ve tagged everything that’s definitely going to be in this fic, more tags will likely be added because I can’t remember everything and I also only have up to the halfway point of Chapter 2 written right now. The biggest triggers have already been listed, but do be sure to check just in case anything new gets added.
> 
> Everyone’s clear on what’s going on? Good! Proceed at your own risk, and let’s have some fun!

The first few days after returning to Devil May Cry were fucking _awful._

Granted, Nero didn’t expect the transition from living in Fortuna with his sister, friends, and foster kids, to living in Capulet and joining an incestuous threesome to be smooth, but this was _ridiculous._ They’d start snarling at each other and gearing up for a fight over the most insignificant things, like “that’s _my_ spot on the couch,” or “that’s _my_ favorite bowl.” It felt like Nero had gone back to his days at the orphanage, having to fight for the tiniest scraps of something that was ‘his,’ and backing off when the risk wasn’t worth the reward.

“It’s more territory bullshit.” Dante explained, after Nero had bought some pizza as a peace offering after one of their petty fights nearly led to Nero throwing him into the wall.

“And this didn’t happen before because…?”

Dante shrugged. “Your demon might’ve thought you were just dropping by, and when you _didn’t,_ it got pissy, which is making ours get stupidly territorial in response. Even if your human brain knows you’re staying for the future, the demon part is a bit more wary about settling down here.”

“Once bitten, twice guarded.” Vergil said behind him, making Nero jump. The bastard was sneaky, but it was probably unintentional; the bastard didn't know how to walk loudly.

“Isn’t it ‘once bitten, twice shy?’”

“Perhaps for humans, but demons are rarely considered _shy.”_ Vergil stated, taking a glance at the pizza and scrunching his nose up in disgust before heading to the couch. “Frankly, I’m more impressed that you know the saying well enough to correct it.”

“Hey, I _read.”_ Dante said accusingly, jabbing his pizza slice towards Vergil before bringing it back for another bite. “But, at the very least, I won’t be dealing with your bitchiness for the next few days.”

“The hell’s that supposed to mean?” Nero asked.

“It _means_ that I have a job, and _you two_ are not invited.” Dante smirked. “No hard feelings, but Lady and Trish specifically requested me and _only_ me, and who am I to argue?”

“Bullshit.”

“To the arguing thing or me being the only one requested? Either way, you can call Lady if you really want to confirm it.”

Nero huffed, but didn’t take Dante up on his offer. He didn’t _want_ to believe Dante, but he didn't want to doubt or bother Lady. She’d rat him out to Dante in a heartbeat, then bitch at him over the phone about Dante's still-unpaid debts. “Fine, then. What’s the job?”

“Taking out a coven that’s gone batshit out in the woods.” Dante said. “Normally we don’t deal with witches since most of them are pretty chill and help human hunters kill the rowdier demons. However, this one’s just decided to go ‘fuck it’ and start killing people for… _some_ reason, so me and the ladies are going to handle it.”

“And we aren’t going with you because…?”

“Well, the job was given to me _before_ you were staying with us, and Lady has some… _problems_ with Vergil. But the other reason is that you’ve probably never fought a witch.” Dante took another bite before he continued. “One witch on her own is tricky enough, but an entire coven makes things a _lot_ more complicated, and it wouldn’t be a good learning experience for ya. Plus, if shit goes sideways, I’d rather have you two show up as backup later.”

“Doubting your abilities before you even get to the target?” Vergil commented from the couch.

“Uh, yeah? This is a pretty big job, and the last time I was overconfident, I ended up in a coma for a month while the surrounding city got torn to shreds.” Dante shrugged, ignoring Nero’s flinch. He talked as if Redgrave was just a blip on the radar, rather than the near-apocalyptic event it became. “Inexperienced backup is better than no backup in my book.”

“I have _plenty_ of experience with witches.”

“Bartering with them doesn’t count.” Dante smugly stated, watching as Vergil huffed and picked up a nearby magazine to flip through.

“So we’re staying behind.” Nero said flatly.

“Yup.” Dante popped the ‘p’ as he got up from his desk. “It’ll give you two plenty of time to get used to each other.”

“We don’t need—”

“Yes, you _do.”_ Dante interrupted Nero. “Look, I’m not saying that me and my brother are on great terms—” 

“We’ve been worse.” Vergil said idly, flipping to the next page.

“— _but_ we also worked some old wounds from the past while we were in Hell, and it made things _slightly_ better. You and I had that good heart to heart in the strip club, and I’d say we came out better for it.”

“I… wouldn’t really call what we did a ‘heart to heart’.” 

Dante rolled his eyes. “What, do you want me to call it a dick to dick instead? Point is, you and Vergil need to do the same.”

“What’s there to talk about?” Nero crossed his arms, leaning against the staircase. “He wasn’t around until he decided to yank my arm off, and then I kicked his ass and we became a happy sort-of family. Doesn’t seem like there’s a lot to discuss.”

“Agreed.” Vergil said tersely.

“No, _not_ agreed. Vergil, do you even know what Nero’s ex’s name is?”

“She’s not my _ex,_ she’s my sister.” Nero corrected. Still, he looked to Vergil, watching as his father stared blankly down at his magazine. “Well?”

“…Carrie.”

Nero leaned forward. _“Carrie?”_

“I was close.”

“No? You weren’t? Her name is _Kyrie.”_

“Ah.” Vergil placed the magazine to the side. “See, I don’t see any value in learning unimportant things.”

Nero snarled, wings flaring to life on his back as he reached for Blue Rose. “What the _fuck_ did you just say—”

“And _this,”_ Dante stood from his chair, the legs scraping across the floor. “Is why you two need to work your shit out.”

“We’ll likely kill each other before that happens.” Vergil said, staring impassively at Nero, who was still growling, his spectral fists clenching with eager anticipation.

“Hey, if you do, then I’ll get some peace and quiet in the shop for a bit before I’ll drink myself into oblivion.” Dante’s sudden dark humor threw Nero off just enough for his spectral wings to fade as he watched the older hunter round his desk and walk towards the front door. “Look, I’m going to meet up with the ladies now and get going, so could you two at least play nice until I get back?”

“I make no promises, brother.”

“Ditto.” Nero said. “If he’s going to be an ass, then I’m going to be an ass back.”

Dante pinched the bridge of his nose. “Great. At least stay alive long enough to help me if the job goes wrong?”

Nero and Vergil glared at each other before looking back at Dante. “That seems… feasible. Though, I hope you informed Mary that I will be arriving if it does.”

Dante laughed nervously. “Yeah, about that…”

Vergil rolled his eyes and went back to his magazine. “Best of luck explaining your wonderful plan to her.”

“Yeah she’s not gonna take it well, but hopefully you won’t have to show up at all.” Dante gave them a two-finger salute before backing out of the shop. “Be on your best behavior while I’m gone you two!”

“How about no, jackass!” Nero called after him as the doors swung shut. The constant ticking of the clock and the occasional page turned by Vergil where the only noises filling the sudden emptiness of the main lobby. Nero shifted his weight, the floorboards creaking underneath him. “So…”

“So.”

“Who’s Mary?”

“The woman with the unusually large amount of guns."

"You mean Lady?"

"Yes. Unless you wish to get shot, don’t call her by that name.”

“Speaking from experience?”

“Perhaps.”

Nero pressed his lips into a flat line. It felt like there was a chasm separating him and Vergil, and he had no way to bridge across it. 

Or, well, he knew _a_ way. Goading Vergil into an argument was a sure-fire way to get him to talk, but Nero didn’t want their whole relationship to center around fighting each other. Plus, Vergil approached any conversation with him the same way he did everything else; casual indifference at best, and a cold shoulder at worst.

“Whatever.” Nero sighed, heading towards the stairs. “I’m going to take a nap. You know where to find me.”

Vergil grunted, and Nero figured that, since the conversation didn’t end with them yelling or trying to kill each other, it counted as a victory.

* * *

Nero failed at falling asleep, his body too high-strung to settle. He did try, but he ended up rolling around for about an hour before he finally went ‘fuck it’ and decided to attempt some weapon maintenance. 

Hours later, Red Queen and Blue Rose were practically sparkling with the amount of polish and elbow grease Nero had put into sharpening and cleaning them, and Nero was fucking starving. The sun hadn’t set, but it was starting to lower, and Nero figured that Vergil wouldn’t complain about a slightly early dinner.

Exiting his room and looking over the banister, Nero huffed when he saw Vergil hadn’t moved. Nero would honestly believe that he’d stayed completely still, if not for a cup of tea in his hands that had replaced the magazine.

“Hey, do you want anything specific for dinner?” Nero asked when he hit the first floor, turning into the kitchen and opening the refrigerator door. “I was thinking I could reheat… uh…”

“Reheat what, Nero?”

“Well, I was going to say I could reheat the pasta we had the other night, but…” Nero looked at the bare shelves, pushing aside a few sports drinks that had been left alone in the naïve hope that there was anything left behind but… nope. “I don’t think we have anything.”

“Mm. Shame.”

“Yeah…” Nero said as he flipped open the cabinets, almost all of them empty, aside from Vergil’s tea packets and the raw ingredients. “Hey, do you remember the last time we went grocery shopping?”

“A few days ago.”

“Are you _sure?”_

“Yes. You went and bought that disgustingly sweet cake for yourself.”

“Don’t judge me, it was on sale.” Nero said, glancing at the empty plastic container on the counter that _used_ to have the cake. He distinctly remembered only eating a slice, and seeing it there this morning. “Did—did you eat the cake?”

“No.” Vergil responded. “But I’m not surprised it’s gone. Dante’s stomach is like a black hole most days. He likely ate everything without even noticing.”

Nero would agree with that, if it weren’t for the fact that meant that Dante had to have used the microwave. If there was anything Nero had learned within the first few days of living with the twins, it was that Dante had the magic ability to burn everything he tried to cook, even if the only thing he did was put it in the microwave. 

Needless to say, Dante was banned from the kitchen unless he was grabbing a snack, and even then, Nero watched him like a hawk.

Still, that meant the only other culprit was Vergil… who would’ve had to eaten _everything_ they had in the hour or so Nero had spent in the room, because he was _pretty sure_ the kitchen had been decently stocked before he went up. Nero couldn’t imagine Vergil devouring all their food in the small span of time Nero was gone, then going back to sit on his couch and sip tea like it was a normal afternoon.

“Guess I’ll have to go shopping tomorrow, then.” Nero sighed, closing the cabinets as he went back into the main room. “Since we don’t have anything _here_ to eat, do you have any requests for take-out?”

“Anything but pizza.” Vergil’s nose scrunched up slightly and he sipped his tea. “Besides that, I’d also recommend you take a shower. You reek.”

“Could say the same about you, jackass.” Nero snapped back reflexively, going over to Dante’s desk and searching through the pile of take-out menus the old man had hoarded over the years. “How about some… Thai? Haven’t had that before.”

“Order the green curry with beef for me.”

“Quick on the draw, huh.”

“I’ve had Thai in the past. Now make your choice so that the food can get here sooner.”

The rest of the evening passed as normally as it could, aided by the fact that Vergil didn’t want to talk to Nero and went to bed early. The next morning, Nero gathered up enough money to go on a grocery run, and he returned with arms laden with bags with his spirits a little higher. While he was out, he saw a flyer for a clothing drive, and figured that he had enough old stuff he’d brought along that he could donate.

Vergil wasn’t in the lobby or kitchen, and Nero appreciated the lack of judgemental glaring as he restocked the shelves. Once he was done, Nero went upstairs into his room and looked through the drawers in his recently-purchased dresser. With a slight frown, Nero pulled out his jackets, trying to find the one he used to wear back when he was with The Order.

Eventually, Nero had pulled out all his clothes and put them in a pile on the floor (he’d sift through it later to find anything else he could donate), and he _still_ couldn’t find his damn jacket. With an annoyed sigh, Nero crouched down and searched through his clothes once again, resorting to desperate measures as he called over his shoulder. “Hey, Vergil?” 

“Yes?” Vergil responded, his voice muffled behind the wall.

“Have you seen my old jacket?” Nero shouted back.

“Why would you want an old article of clothing?” Nero jumped as Vergil’s voice came from over his shoulder— _definitely_ not where he was a second ago—and he shoved his elbow back on reflex. 

To his surprise, Vergil grunted at the hit and took a few, unsteady steps back as he held his stomach. Nero starred in surprise. He was pretty sure he hadn’t hit Vergil too hard, but… maybe he got a lucky hit? Attacks to the gut tended to hurt a bit more that usual, but… well, experience told Nero that Vergil had a very hard stomach. 

Well, it wasn’t like he broke one of Vergil’s ribs or anything, and either way he’d heal up pretty quickly. After taking a second to calm his heart, he explained. “I wanted to give my old jacket to charity since I outgrew it, and I figured it would be a pretty decent item to give.” Nero sighed and looked at the decent-sized pile of partially-torn shirts, pants, and the slightly more casual jackets that had accumulated on the floor. “Problem is, I can’t find it, and I’m pretty sure I brought it with me. I was wondering if you saw it laying around somewhere?”

Nero glanced at Vergil, who was staring at the pile, his shoulders slowly rising. Something flashed across his eyes, there and gone before Nero could identify it. Irritation, maybe? Vergil never came off as the type of guy to _enjoy_ messes, despite his penchant for not cleaning things himself, so seeing this was probably all of his pet peeves combined.

A long stretch of silence passed before Vergil snapped himself out of whatever trance he’d fallen into, and he abruptly turned around. “I haven’t seen your coat. It’s best you stop looking for it, lest you make this pigsty any worse.”

“Hey, my room isn’t a—” Vergil practically _ran_ out of the room, slamming the door behind him. “—pigsty…?”

Nero rolled his eyes, but Vergil had a point, as rudely as he made it. Continuing to look for his coat would only frustrate Nero further, and he obviously wasn’t _super_ attached to it. He’s more annoyed at himself for losing it, or possibly leaving it behind in Fortuna. Still, Vergil could have been a bit nicer and took the stick out of his ass for a moment.

Then again, it _was_ Vergil. Having a stick up his ass was par for the course. 

Nero shrugged and started to fold his pile of clothes. Dante’s job should wrap up soon enough, and when he came back, maybe he could tell Nero why Vergil was acting even weirder than usual.

* * *

The hope that Dante would swoop in and save the day were swiftly dashed when the man in question called the shop and delivered some... less than stellar news.

“The job’s more complicated than we thought.” Dante’s voice crackled with static over the line. Nero was honestly surprised that he found a working landline in the first place. “They got wind of us showing up and decided to scatter into the woods. Worst part is, their magic is centered around time manipulation, so they’re making weird shit happen to try and keep us out.”

“So…?”

 _“So_ we’re going to be out for even longer. I’d give you an estimate, but I honestly have no clue how long this’ll take with time magic on the playing field.” Nero groaned, flopping back into Dante’s chair. “Hey, don’t be so upset! You and Vergil can have some quality father-son bonding time.”

“Yeah, cause we’re already having _so_ much fun.” 

“Oh, really? How many times has he stabbed you, then?”

Nero sighed. “None so far, but I’m not pushing my luck. How long before we cut a portal open and come get you?”

“Honestly? Whatever you two feel is too long. We’re assuming that it’s just small pockets that have been affected and we can hopefully avoid them. If it’s more wide-spread, a week for us could be a day for you guys. For all we know, they’ve messed up the forest so much they’ve turned the whole thing into a liminal space.”

“A _what_ space?”

“A _liminal_ space. Basically, it's an area designed to be disorienting and make time all screwy. Hey, maybe you should ask Vergil about it! That'd be a great place for you two to start talking.”

Nero rolls his eyes. “Right, so, three days, then we’ll swoop in and save the day.”

“Ha ha, you’re killing me over here with your master comedian skills.” Nero faintly heard one of the girls yelling through the speaker. “Alright, _alright!_ Sheesh, talk about nagging. I gotta go, kid. Talk to ya in a few.”

“Yeah, just come back to us in one piece.” Dante's end of the line clicked off, the dial tone droning through the speaker. Nero set the handle back in it’s cradle with a sigh, rolling a crick out of his neck. Another couple days of Vergil acting like a pissy cat without Dante being here would be torture—

“What did he say?”

 _“Cazzo—”_ Nero jumped out of his chair when Vergil spoke behind him. Looking over his shoulder, Nero placed a hand over his heart. That was the second time Vergil snuck up on him, and it had already gotten old. “Are you _trying_ to get shot?”

“That was Dante, correct?” Vergil plowed on, ignoring Nero’s anger, as usual. Nero nodded, not wanting to piss him off any more. “Is he coming back?”

“He said the job was going to take a couple more days, and we should go save him if we think he’s taking too long”

There was a long, pregnant pause before Vergil let out a noise. It wasn’t a sound a human could make, vibrating on a wavelength that made Nero’s ears ring and his heart stuttered. A strange scent filled the air between them, something deeply alluring that made his head spin. He rose from the chair as if in a dream, lightly touching Vergil’s arm and stepping close enough so that they were sharing the same breath.

Vergil yanked his arm away, hastily stepping back and nearly knocking over one of the old speakers Dante had shoved under the staircase. His breathing picked up, something close to panic flashing across his face before he turned, leapt straight up, pulled himself over the second floor’s railing, and ran—fucking _ran—_ down the hall. Nero heard a door slam from above, then the sound of furniture being moved around, before all was quiet once more.

Hand still raised to hold Vergil’s arm, Nero stared up at the second floor and whispered, “What the _fuck?”_

* * *

Obviously, there was a problem.

The first thing Nero assumed set Vergil off was, of course, the stupid territory bullshit rearing it’s ugly mug again. It was unpredictable as it was explosive, and Nero knew that a few new marks in the walls and floors were from their fights.

Problem was that Nero had experienced Vergil’s ‘protective streak’ over his territory, and it was nothing like _that._ He would glare, the air between them thickening as Vergil’s energy fanned out, like a bird fluffing its feathers. If Nero didn’t back off, he’d say something, like “Go away,” if he got too close, “Put that down,” if he grabbed something that Vergil labelled as ‘his,’ etcetera. Vergil making some weird demon noise before running away was the exact opposite reaction.

The second theory, which was only slightly less likely than the first, was that the weird behavior over the past few days was how Vergil acted normally, and Nero had pissed him off. He hadn’t pinned down Vergil’s true nature yet and, if this wasn’t territory bullshit, then maybe this was how he really acted, and realizing he was acting more genuine, he ran.

But that didn’t work either, because it didn’t make sense with how he acted around Dante. If Dante pissed him off, he usually jabbed his twin with a Summoned Sword, or Yamato if he was _really_ annoyed. There shouldn’t be any reason for Vergil to treat him differently—or, if he did, he should be treated worse.

The third, least likely, and weirdest reason Nero could think up was that Vergil was going through ‘Dante withdrawal,’ and he was being a weird mother fucker because… well, because. Nero didn’t know exactly how long the twins had been separated before Red Grave, but it had to be long enough for Dante to assume that Vergil was dead and be comfortable to give Yamato, Vergil’s prized Devil Arm, to Nero, who he’d known for less than a day. Combine that with the twins staying in Hell together for several months, then returning and staying together except for very brief periods of time, Nero could _maybe_ see that Vergil was being a sentimental fool that missed his brother, and just didn’t know how to handle him being gone for so long.

Of course, that was more of a conspiracy theory than anything concrete. Nero liked to believe that Vergil cared about Dante, but not enough to have a crisis after four days of separation. Plus, it didn’t explain any of the weird things that had happened, beyond him making that weird noise when he heard Dante wasn’t coming back. 

In other, simpler words, Vergil was a mystery that Nero had no clue how to solve and, even if he did, he doubted the effort would be worth it. Problem was that Vergil likely wouldn’t take fault for being a fuckwit (even though he _obviously was)_ , and Nero didn’t want them to stew in silence for… however long it would take for Dante to get back, especially if Vergil wasn’t taking it well.

So, since Nero didn’t want to fight Vergil or stay in this awkward silence forever, he fell back on his tried and true method to get anyone’s attention and help patch up all relationships: food.

He wasn’t the best cook ever, but he was leagues better than the twin, who had probably never cooked a day in their life. Thankfully, when he went grocery shopping, he picked up the ingredients for a tasty chicken stir-fry. It was a novel food, since Fortuna pretty much had pasta, pasta, and _more_ pasta, but ever since Lady introduced him to it, he’d been hooked.

Plus, chicken stir-fry smelled just as good as it tasted. If there was anything that could potentially lure Vergil out of his self-imposed isolation, it would be the alluring smell of spices, chicken, and roasting vegetables.

Despite the whole plan centering around luring Vergil out, Nero still froze when he heard the floorboards creak overhead. He carefully went back to pouring teriyaki sauce in the pan, keeping an eye on the door, and then gasped when Vergil appeared in the doorway.

The first thing that caught Nero’s attention was Vergil’s eyes, which glowed with a faint blue light, his pupils thin slits as he examined the kitchen. Scales—some dark blue, others shining silver in the kitchen’s harsh light—curled and jutted out from his cheeks, like an odd cross between tattoos and armor. A similar trail of scales travelled down his neck and under a loose shirt he’d hastily thrown on, judging by the wrinkles. His fingernails had grown and sharpened into fine points and were twitching nervously at his sides. The loose sweatpants he wore hid his legs, but his exposed feet were the most transformed part of him: chitinous plates surrounded his feet entirely, his toes tipped with wickedly long claws that scratched fine lines into the floorboards.

“I suppose I should attempt to explain… _this.”_ Vergil said, a faint echo to his voice. It wasn’t the same distortion as a full trigger would cause, but it was eerily close.

“Uh, _yeah.”_ Nero said, deciding that the stir-fry had cooked enough to justify placing it to the side and turning off the stove. “I’m going to hope that you being like… _this_ doesn’t mean that you want to kill me.”

“It does not.” Vergil said derisively, as if Nero was a fool for even thinking so. He reached for a piece of chicken in the stir-fry, but Nero jerked the pan back, glaring at Vergil.

“Grab a plate. It’s impolite to just take it out of the pan.”

“Hmph.” Vergil huffed, brushing past Nero deliberately as he grabbed a pair of plates from the cabinet, then a matching pair of forks and knives. Nero noticed that he didn’t have his tail or wings, but his gait was slightly off, and he had raised a hand to tenderly hold his stomach, roughly where Nero had hit him the day before. 

Caught up in his thoughts, he jumped at Vergil’s growl over his shoulder, a puff of his hot breath hitting his neck. “There. Now give me the food.”

“You could at least say _please.”_ Nero said as he tilted the pan and loaded up Vergil’s plate, generously giving him more chicken than vegetables. Vergil nodded his thanks before going to the lobby, and Nero rushed to put his own portion on his plate before joining him. 

Entering the office, Nero watched as Vergil tenderly settled on the couch, picking carefully at his food with his almost-claws. Nero sat on top of Dante’s desk and let a few minutes pass where they ate in silence before he tried to start the conversation. “So…”

“So.”

“This feels familiar,” Nero tried to lessen the tension in the air before he pointed his fork at Vergil’s partially-triggered form. “What’s up with all scales? You molting?”

“I feel like that would be an easier process than the reality.” Vergil groused, placing his barely-touched stir-fry to the side with a grimace. “Let’s start with an easier question. How much do you know about demons?”

“Aside from how to kill them?” Nero shrugged. “Not much. I mean, Nico and I found Agnus’ notes, which she used to help her research and create my Breakers, but I didn’t really read ‘em. It was a lot of technical stuff that I didn’t need to know.”

Vergil growled in frustration. “I supposed that is partially _our_ fault for not teaching you more, but nonetheless, late is better than never.”

“I mean, I don’t really need to know more than how to kill them, do I?”

“If you were a normal, human hunter, possibly. But you are part demon, as am I, and there are… _things_ that humans do not have to take into consideration.”

Nero shifted uncomfortably on the desk. “Like…?”

Vergil bit his lip, and Nero idly noted that his teeth had grown and sharpened. “To put this bluntly, demons handle mating differently than humans.”

Nero's fork slipped from his fingers, landing on his plate with a clatter. “What.”

“Humans can simply have sex whenever they want, and their fertility will remain the same regardless. Demons, however, have a ‘scheduled time’ in which their hormones rise to a fever pitch, and their fertility increases. Instincts take control and demand the demon mate with a suitable partner, and this state can last—”

“Wait, _wait.”_ Nero put his plate to the side. “Why are you talking about this?”

Vergil sighed heavily through his nose. _“Because_ I am about to enter that state. I will be… in _heat,_ for lack of a better term, either later today or tomorrow morning.”

Nero starred in shock. “Heat…?”

“A state of heightened arousal due to raised levels of hormones and fertility.” Vergil recited as if he was reading the definition from a textbook. “I had assumed I would no longer experience heats due to my time in the Underworld. My body was… _fragile,_ so to say, and I assumed that the damage would have rendered me unable to enter such a state. However, the Qliphoth fruit appears to have healed me enough to make entering heat completely possible.”

“A-are you sure? Maybe this is just, like, a weird bug with your demon, or something.”

“The warning signs are the same as when I was younger, such as my body slowly changing in order to proceed. I have noted there are some minor differences. I did not long for material comforts in the past, but now I do.”

“‘Material comforts?’”

“Yes. I am… currently restraining myself from taking the couch cushions to my room to nest.”

Nero chose not to ask what he meant by ‘nest’ and pushed on. “So… this is something that will just pass on it’s own, or…?”

“Yes, though it will be highly unpleasant.” Vergil’s grimace returned. “My body and instincts will demand that I find a suitable mate to be with. I’d also have to assume that, since I haven’t had a heat in nearly two decades, that my… _needs_ will be exponentially worse.”

“And if you don’t find a ‘mate?’”

“Technically, I already _have_ a mate.” Vergil ran his fingers over a series of thin, silvery marks on his neck—slight imperfections on his human skin that hadn’t been covered by scales yet—and shivered. “Dante and I marked each other while we were dispatching the Qliphoth. However, with him indisposed for the foreseeable future, I’ll either be in a state of severe physical and psychological pain, or I’ll become increasingly aggressive and try to find _another_ demon that will suit my needs.”

Nero could see where this was going. “And that other demon would be…”

“Someone as strong as Dante or I. In other words,” Vergil met Nero’s gaze. “You, Nero.”

“Ah.” Nero said, his emotions pretty much shot. “So, uh…”

“I understand this may be… unpleasant information, especially considering the lack of warning.” Vergil said. “I was, admittedly, hoping that I wasn’t about to enter my heat. Or that Dante would return soon so that you would be unaware of this and you could stay with the women, but that doesn’t appear to be the case.”

“And… you want me to stay?” 

Vergil took a deep breath. “No. As I said previously, I’ll grow more aggressive as time passes. I won’t be able to stop if you need a break, Dante will be unable to save you, and it will be much more unforgiving and taxing on your body.”

“I don’t need Dante to save me.” Nero felt some of his fire returning when Vergil said something he could reasonably argue against. He could handle Vergil _just fine,_ and he wasn’t about to have Vergil believing he couldn’t.

“Perhaps you won’t, but everything else I said still stands.” Vergil said as he rose from the couch, more scales appearing from his wrists, traveling to his elbow. “You have had sex with us _once,_ and you passed out crying at the end. If you are somehow holding onto the naïve belief that this will be ‘easier,’ then you are sorely mistaken.”

“Do you seriously expect me to run away?”

 _“Yes.”_ Nero’s eyes widened as Vergil continued, more scales popping up along his body as his voice began to distort, a second pitch echoing beneath it. “Your best chance at getting out of this unscathed, with a scrap of _both_ our dignities intact, is for you to _leave._ Go to Fortuna for the next week, or contact Morrison to make arrangements, I hardly care, just get out of the building.”

“Hell no!” Nero jumped to his feet and glared at Vergil. “I’m not just going to leave you to suffer!”

“If you stay, _you_ will suffer by _my hand.”_ Vergil growled, stalking closer. The alluring scent from before flooded the air, a bitter tang of anger accompanying it, and Nero felt his hackles rise as he was filled with the urge to break Vergil’s nose then kiss him stupid. “I am _ordering_ _you,_ as your superior and your father, to _leave.”_

“You know, that would probably mean more if you were _actually_ a father to me and our first fight didn’t end with _me_ win—”

In less than a second, Nero was flat on his back, pinned to the office floor by Vergil. With a loud _RIIIP,_ a pair of wings burst from his back, hovering over them as Vergil hissed, deep in his chest. The air was thick and cloying and Nero couldn’t breathe, though he wasn’t sure if that was because of the scent rolling off Vergil in waves, or the scaled hand pressing down on his throat.

“You won… through _chance.”_ Vergil hissed, shaking with barely restrained anger. “If I were to fight you now, you would be nothing more than a sniveling _whelp,_ begging for mercy.”

“You _just_ said that your body was getting primed to get fucked by me.” Nero said almost lazily, deliberately raising his thigh to press against Vergil’s crotch. The older demon hissed as he ground his hips, tightened his grip on Nero’s throat in warning. “If you _really_ mean that, then do it. _Try_ to beat me into a pulp, I fucking dare you.”

“Insubordinate _brat.”_

“Bitch.”

“Funny. I’m the one who is supposed to be addled, and yet _you_ are the one who came up with an uninspired insult.”

“Don’t need anything more to get on your nerves.” Nero smirked.

With a furious growl, Vergil rose, dragging Nero off of the floor by his throat before throwing him into the wall. Nero only had a second to get his feet underneath him before Vergil slammed into him, razor-sharp teeth wrapped around his neck, threatening to tear into him. Nero froze, a primal fear rising in him and making his heart skip a beat. Arousal pooled in his gut, and Nero let out a low moan, feeling his blood rush from his brain to his dick.

Vergil tensed, then pulled away, flapping his wings to gain more distance. He growled, shaking his head and pulling at his hair, the small amount of his visible skin covered in a thin layer of sweat. _“Dammit.”_

“What’s…” Nero gasped, suddenly out of breath. “What’s the matter? Can’t put your money where your mouth is?”

Vergil growled, his lips pulled back to show less-than-human teeth before he seemed to gather himself. “I am going to my room, and you are to leave by sundown if you care about your wellbeing.”

“But you don’t want me to leave!” Nero shouted. “You said so yourself! If I can help, I’m _going_ to help!”

“You—” A pained snarl left Vergil as he doubled over, holding his midsection. His scent fluctuated, the heat behind it nearly burning Nero’s nose, and he hastily covered his face with his sleeve, watching as Vergil’s form rippled. A mirage rippled around him before his energy pulled in, his body tense, close to exploding. “Damn, damn, _damn.”_

“Vergil, god dammit, just let me help you!”

“N- _nooo!”_ Vergil roared, nearly falling to the ground. Taking a ragged breath, Vergil spread his wings and beat them once, propelling himself up into the air, brushing against the ceiling before he dove down the hallway. Nero wanted to snatch his ankle and finish what he started, but he held back. He heard the door to the twins’ bedroom slam shut before a guttural, demonic _howl_ shook the walls of the office, the windows rattling a few seconds after it ended.

Something deep within Nero shuddered at the howl, but he dug his fingernails into his palms and held back. Chasing after Vergil right now would only lead to a massacre, and, well…

Nero raised a hand to his neck, tracing over the slight imprints Vergil’s teeth had left behind. His dick twitched in response, bringing his attention to the prominent tent in his pants.

“Fucking _asshole.”_ Nero muttered, heading towards the kitchen to grab some ice. 


	2. Zero to Sixty

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter should _not_ have taken as long as it did but oh my freaking god it has been a rough two months lemme tell you.
> 
> Okay, so, BASICALLY:  
> \- I wanted to wait for Dadgil week to pass before posting the next chapter (bc a Vernero smut fic wouldn't be a nice inclusion amidst a week of gen family pieces let's be real) and I wanted the week to have its time to shine.  
> \- During that period, depression hit me with a baseball bat wrapped in barbed wire (which, given the world, isn't all that surprising, but it's never fun).  
> \- Zine work took priority because, y'know, deadlines.  
> \- Right as I was _finally_ feeling better and wanted to finish this up, a tropical storm fucked up my area and knocked out my power for a week, which meant I COULDN'T work on this because the file was a google doc and I needed the internet to make any progress (outside of writing some scraps in my notebook).
> 
> So yeah! This thing took for-fucking-ever, but it's finally ready! Hopefully the final wrap-up chapter shouldn't take as long, and I hope the wait was worth it!
> 
> Just as a reminder, **please check the tags** for any content that may squick you out/trigger you. I've added a few that explains things a bit more and I think I got most everything, but I never know. Do let me know if I need to add something, either for you or other readers!

Nero didn’t mind his… heritage, so to speak. He’d struggle to say that he _liked_ being part demon most days—especially in the past on Fortuna, when his arm had changed and each day he woke up terrified he’d be killed or deemed a new experiment for Agnus to have fun with—but it had its perks. 

Snatching was fun, but that was something exclusive to him from the looks of things. Super fast healing? Definitely appreciated considering he fought people and demons alike. Enhanced senses were also nice, except when he could smell Vergil’s enticing scent hovering by his room, and he could hear every creak and groan upstairs even though he was downstairs, and his body was far, _far_ too interested in what was happening.

Pressing a bag of ice against his crotch to calm down had… mixed results. His erection wouldn’t go down completely which, if it weren’t for the fact Nero was pretty confident that demon stuff was responsible for that, he’d be a lot more worried. 

He settled with the awkward half-chub pressing uncomfortably against his cold, damp pants, feeling no more confident than he was when Vergil had fled upstairs. During these minutes of contemplation and praying that he didn’t accidentally give his dick frostbite, he thought about what would happen if talking with Vergil went south.

Vergil would definitely fight him. He’d punch him, at the very _least,_ before forcing him out of the room and telling him to get the fuck out. However, the more Nero thought about it, the more he realized he _couldn’t_ leave, and not just because his conscience wouldn’t let him _._ He’d used most of their current funds to buy groceries the other day, and there definitely wasn’t enough to spend on a motel room or a ferry ticket. He could maybe call Nico to pick him up and bring him to Fortuna, but he wasn’t comfortable being that far away if Vergil’s health took a turn for the worst.

To kill a bit more time (and try to get on Vergil’s good side), Nero tried to think of literally _anything_ Vergil could need. Was being ‘in heat’ like being sick? He’d taken care of Kyrie and the kids when they caught a nasty strain of the flu, and that involved a lot of sleeping, soup, and water. Should he try cooking something else that was easy to keep down and bring that up as a peace offering before trying to talk to Vergil?

…Would Vergil even accept anything, at this point?

Ugh, _thinking._ Nero groaned as he thumped his head against the refrigerator. 

This would be _so_ much easier if his blood wasn’t rushing south. Or, y’know, if Vergil wasn’t a piece of shit that told him to ‘fuck off,’ but hey, Nero would focus on what he could feasibly do. Making sure Vergil wasn’t going to starve to death was easy, getting Vergil to take the stick out of his ass was _not._

Seriously, could the asshole not put his pride aside for five minutes and just accept some help?

Well… 

Nero lifted his right hand and made a fist, as if to remind himself that it was there. Maybe prideful stubbornness was a genetic trait. Another addition to the “Shit He’d Like to Get Refunded” list.

Nero scoffed and pulled away from the refrigerator’s cool comfort and opened the door, grabbing a few sports drinks before checking to see if they had any food that was easy on the stomach. Even if Vergil didn’t accept anything, hopefully the fact that he made something could earn Nero brownie points and maybe start a conversation.

Unfortunately, no soup, but they did have some fresh eggs and bread. Sunny side up with toast should be easy to eat, even with demon teeth.

One plate full of delicious, simple eggs and toast later, Nero loaded a tray with the food and various energy drinks before heading upstairs. With each step, the air grew slightly warmer, and there was a weird smell leaking out from under the door that made him want to sneeze. Another load of weird demon bullshit, probably.

Why did they have to be weird? Why couldn’t they have been even _slightly_ normal?

Holding the platter in one hand, Nero opened the door with the other and was smacked in the face by a wave of warm, musky air, Vergil’s natural scent mixed with an odd ‘spice’ that made Nero’s toes curl. Curtains covered the windows, barely lighting up the room, but Nero would have to be blind to see the mess. The closets and drawers were all pulled open, various clothes scattered across the floor before being amassed into a large pile, filled with even more clothes, blankets, and pillows.

Currently laying face down atop the pile was Vergil, who was trembling slightly. He panted harshly, kneading and clawing at a pillow beneath him. He wasn’t wearing any clothes, showing off dense patches of scales that were slowly expanding along his body, as well as a pair of wings laying limply on his back. Strangely enough, it didn’t look like the same triggered form Nero had seen atop the Qliphoth; the scales were slightly darker in color, and he so far didn’t have a tail.

Vergil looked up, his eyes glowing briefly before they returned to their natural, icy blue, the once slit pupil expanding slightly. He groaned, body shuddering and making his wings rustle, before shoving his face into the pile—specifically, into one of Dante’s shirts. “I told you to leave.”

“Yeah, well…” Nero shrugged, placing the platter on the floor between them before sitting down. “If you wanted me to be an obedient child, you should’ve stuck around to make me that.”

Vergil picked his head up enough to glare at Nero. “I doubt my influence would make a difference.” He looked down, his eyes catching on the plate of steaming eggs and accompanying toast, and he leaned forward. “What is that?”

“Some more food, if you want it.” Nero shrugged. “I know we just ate, but… it can’t hurt, can it?”

Vergil didn’t reply. He stared down at the plate of food, pupils expanding to the size of dinner plates as his body trembled, his mouth opening slightly. Then, as if realizing how he looked, Vergil forcibly shut his eyes and shook his head, a dual-toned whine leaving him as his back arched, his wings unfurling from underneath him.

Nero gave him his space, watching as he managed to slowly compose himself, though he couldn’t stop his body trembling. When he opened his eyes again, it was to glare at Nero, lips pulling back in the beginning of a snarl. “So, that’s the game we’re playing now, is it?”

“I’m not playing a game.” Nero said, nudging the improvised platter closer. “I just made you some more food. And, while you eat, I figured we could talk a bit more.”

“No, we will not _talk.”_ Vergil growled. “You will turn around and leave, right now.”

“Seriously? You’re still trying to threaten me?”

“I am not threatening you, I am ordering you—”

“And ordering me _doesn’t work.”_ Nero said, standing up. “I’m not leaving, and you can’t _make_ me leave, so deal with it.”

Vergil shook harder, his wings spreading and scratching against the ceiling as he hissed, pulling the scraps of clothing closer, like they were precious items to hoard. The staring contest continued for a few more seconds before Nero sighed, then sat back down, crossing his legs. “Please? Can we just… talk about this more?”

“There is nothing more to discuss. I’ve already told you everything you need to know.”

“Then let _me_ talk.” Nero nudged the platter forward again, the edge hitting the bottom of the pile. “The food’s for you, not me. Stuff some grub into your mouth while I say my piece, alright?”

Vergil looked down at the plate, then up at Nero, before he lunged forward and grabbed one of the eggs. He shoved it into his mouth, chomping down and chewing loudly, bits of the yolk dripped from his lips, only to be licked up with a dark, ridged tongue, his usual decorum all but vanished. Nero watched in stunned awe for a few seconds before he figured he should start talking while Vergil’s mouth was currently occupied.

“So…” Nero rubbed the back of his neck. “I’m not going to leave. Not just because me leaving is stupid, but I just… can’t leave. We don’t have enough money for a motel room or a ferry ticket, and I have no clue where anyone else lives, so… yeah.”

“Is that all?” Vergil slurred around a mouthful of toast.

“No, jackass.” Nero took a calming breath. “If you want to be alone or whatever I’ll stay out of your hair and give you your space, but… this doesn’t sound healthy. If something goes really fucking wrong, I don’t want to leave you alone and then come in one day to find out that you kicked the bucket because your heart stopped while you were humping a pillow.”

Vergil swallowed. “I doubt that a hospital would be able to help me, just as much as I doubt I will have a heart attack mid-heat.”

“Okay, yeah, but do you know? You said yourself you haven’t done… _this_ in, what, ten years? More? What if your body starts to kill you or something?”

“Then it would be an embarrassing death.”

“You—” Nero paused, clapping his hands together before taking a calming breath. “Okay, we’re getting off topic here. Point is, I want to be nearby, and I want to help you if I’m able to. Whether that’s being a temporary fuck-buddy for however long this goes for or if you just want me to bring you food and stuff.”

“You are concerned for my wellbeing.” Vergil stated.

“I…” Nero felt his brain blue screen temporarily before he managed to collect himself, putting on the usual ‘done with your shit’ face he donned whenever he dealt with Vergil. “Look, I don’t know what this _is._ I don’t know what this does to you aside from the shit you told me, and I don’t know why you want me away so bad, but… I can’t do that, and I don’t want to be _useless.”_

A heavy silence settled between them, only slightly broken up by Vergil continuing to eat his food. After he swallowed, he sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose, muttering under his breath, “I cannot _believe_ I am even contemplating this…”

Nero perked up as Vergil lowered his hand, glaring at Nero. _“Fine,_ but you must abide by _my_ rules. No arguing.”

“Fine.” Nero agreed, leaning forward. “I’ll listen. Probably.”

Vergil groaned and hung his head. “This is going to be an unmitigated _disaster.”_

* * *

The ‘rules’ Vergil set up were simple: Nero was not to enter Vergil’s room under any circumstances. Once a day, Nero would leave a meal outside Vergil’s room for him to eat, but that was the extent of their interactions. If Nero found himself tempted to enter, he was to leave before Vergil took it upon himself to get rid of him, and if Nero entered?

Well, Vergil left that up to Nero’s imagination, but he did manage to summon a few spectral swords to point at him, menacingly.

In any other scenario, these wouldn’t even be rules. Nero didn’t actively search for opportunities to talk to Vergil and he regularly cooked dinner whenever they didn’t order out. The first hour or so after leaving Vergil’s room was easy enough, with Nero watching some trashy TV to pass the time.

But as the seconds slowly ticked away, the harder it became for him to turn off his mind. His thoughts still drifted to Vergil, imagining what must be happening upstairs. He could practically see Vergil writhing atop his nest, shaking from a heavy cocktail of pain and pleasure. Would he be rutting against one of Nero’s jackets, or frantically jerking himself off, cum staining his palm and the pillows?

...And now he was hard. Again.

God dammit. 

He turned off the TV—the overdramatic reality show suddenly irritating rather than brain numbing. He went through his usual routine of cleaning and tinkering with Red Queen and Blue Rose, but he ended up fumbling the tools too much to make any progress. He tried sorting through some files that Dante had left out, then trying to translate one that was in Latin into English.

And yet, every time he’d managed to get _some_ level of control over himself, he’d relax, and his mind would go right back to thinking about Vergil, and what Vergil was doing, and what _he_ wanted to do to Vergil.

By the time he finished a shittily-translated version of the file (something about a magic ritual or something, Nero didn’t exactly _absorb_ what he’d read), the sun had set, and the skies above Capulet rumbled with the promise of a storm. The humid air, charged with energy outside, mixed with the scent from Vergil’s room, probably leaking from under the door and now filling the lobby, pulling Nero further into fantasies that he couldn’t fulfil.

It was a miracle that Nero managed to control himself enough to fall into a restless sleep.

* * *

Waking up with morning wood was never a fun time, in Nero’s experience. It was awkward, and annoying, and it took him twice as long to wake up and deal with the world. He normally took a cold shower and waited for it to go down on it’s own, because no matter what it didn’t feel that great to take care of it.

Waking up on the couch with his dick harder than diamonds was worse than every case of morning wood he had in the past. His face was stuck to the leather cushions with drool, his entire body felt like a fucked-up pretzel, and the air was dense with a cloying scent. It felt like he’d been teleported to a flowerbed in the middle of Mitis, and it took his brain a moment to reboot and remember where he was and what was going on.

Right. Couch. Vergil. Heat.

And the only working shower was upstairs, almost directly across from the bedroom

God. _Fucking._ Dammit.

Nero groaned as he sluggishly pulled his cheek from the leather cushion, sitting up and sagging as he stared at his lap. He pinched the bridge of his nose and took a deep, resigned breath, contemplating if it would be worth his time to press another bag of ice cubes to his pants, or suffer through the morning and hope it went down.

Halfway through pouring himself a bowl of cereal, a loud, pained shout came upstairs, the sound reverberating through the air and making goosebumps rise across Nero’s skin. He was moving before he even realized it, his wings shimmering into existence and launching him up to the second floor and cratering the wooden planks beneath him.

He paused when he was in front of Vergil’s door, catching his breath as he tried to stem the sudden rush of adrenaline. If he went in, Vergil would probably stab him, or maybe just claw him to bits if he was still triggered. He wanted to give Vergil his space, but if he heard right—

But then Nero heard a low, pained moan that ended in a pitiful warble, and his mind was made up. If Vergil was in serious pain and was likely to get worse, they needed to do _something._

Opening the door, Nero was smacked in the face by the _smell._ If the scent downstairs was unbearable, this was a hundred times stronger. He felt his mind fog over for a brief second before he composed himself, drawing his wrinkled shirt over his nose to take another breath before entering the dark room.

Well, not completely ‘dark,’ anyways. Vergil was now fully triggered, not a trace of any soft, pale skin or wispy, slicked back hair. The natural cracks that made up his veins pulsed with each ragged breath he took, casting the bedroom in an ethereal blue glow. The lights shifted as he writhed in his pile, hips grinding down against the pillows and bunched-up sheets, and Nero watched, entranced. 

A few seconds filled with his labored pants passed before he realized there was someone else in the room. He glanced up at Nero, eyes glazed and glowing silver, before his entire body shuddered, demonic energy spiking and adding an ozone-like tinge to air. “You…”

“I’m sorry.” Nero blurted out. “But I heard you, and…”

Vergil let out a demonic warble and arched his back, wings flaring and exposing his raised hips before he collapsed against the sheets. “Leave.”

“No! You’re in pain!”

“Heats are always painful.” Vergil chuckled ruefully, his voice shaking slightly, barely enough for Nero to hear. “This one is no diff—”

Vergil cut himself off with a choked gasp, and Nero stepped forward, hand outstretched as if he could help. His body tensed and was wracked with tremors as he let out another pained howl, the glowing veins pulsing even brighter before dimming greatly, pulsing sluggishly.

“Vergil—”

_“Get. Out.”_

“I’m not going through this bullshit again!” Nero growled, his hands clenched into fists. “I want to help you god dammit, and standing on the side isn’t doing anything for either of us! Unless you give me a good reason right now, I’m staying in this room until you kick me out.”

Vergil shuddered, eyes with blown pupils sliding shut as he curled into a tight ball, his wings sluggishly trying to wrap around his torso. “I do not want you to see me like this.”

Nero waited a few more seconds, expecting Vergil to elaborate, but he remained silent. “That’s _it?”_

“Yes, it is.” Vergil picked his head up enough to glare at Nero. “I am _weak,_ betrayed by my own body’s whims. The only reason why I’m so coherent is because my body is in pain and wants nothing more than to fuck you until you pass out or beg for your cock. I refuse to subjugate myself to such humiliation.”

“But if Dante were here, you’d be just _peachy,_ wouldn’t you?”

“Are you jealous?” Vergil managed a rough laugh laced with pain. “The only reason I would tolerate his presence is because we’ve mated and it’s his duty to be here. I assure you, if we were not mated, or we were still vying for each others’ throats, I’d sooner kill him than let him in the room.”

Nero blew a breath through his nose, crossing his arms. “So… you don’t want to look weak?”

Vergil grit his teeth and attempted to pull his wings up, blue energy sparking above him into the vague outline of a sword before fading. “If you are about to insult me, Nero, I swear—”

“I _figured,”_ Nero interrupted, stretching out one of his spectral wings to press a finger over Vergil’s lips. “That after I carried V’s scrawny ass up a demon tree, you’d get it through your thick skull that I don’t care if you’re ‘weak.’ You’re a grade-A asshole most of the time and, frankly, but believe it or not I don’t want you to die. I want you to not be in pain because I—” 

Nero cut himself off, the words _I care about you_ hanging on the tip of his tongue. Instead, he scratched the tip of his nose. “Nevermind. I know you say you’re healthy, but there’s no way that this is healthy. There has to be a point where your pride doesn’t matter.”

Vergil growled, the sound resonating deep in Nero’s bones, and he shivered as they stared each other down. Vergil’s pupils were so large they nearly eclipsed the glowing iris, and he looked distinctly ruffled and off-kilter. Nero wondered if he looked similar, or somewhat more composed (though he doubted it).

“I need you to understand, right now, that this isn’t a small, one-night affair.” Vergil started. “It’s a taxing ordeal and, once you agree, there’s no backing out. You’ll be just as trapped here as I am until my heat passes.”

“Because of demon stuff?”

“In a way.”

“Right.” Nero said somewhat blithely, pulling his shirt up by its hem and throwing it towards the pile. “I’m just going to assume that this is all very important and complicated and that you can explain it to me in detail when you _aren’t_ dying.”

“I am not _dying—”_

“Okay then, when you aren’t in crippling pain, then.” Nero pulled down his sweatpants, his hard cock bulging in his boxers. “Now, how do you want to do this?”

Vergil sighed, pushing himself back and reaching out to Nero. “Come over here.”

Nero narrowed his eyes but moved forward, stopping once he was in front of Vergil. “Really? On top of the dirty clothes—”

Vergil’s hand snapped around Nero’s calve, his claws pressing just shy of cutting into his skin. He pulled Nero into the pile with a snarl, and Nero instinctively reached for his sword only for his hand to meet thin air.

“I am not letting you command me.” Vergil growled, reaching down and ripping Nero’s boxers off, tossing the tattered scraps to the side before hiking his hips up. “We both know that you’d be atrocious.”

“Fuck off.” Nero reflexively replied, but he guessed Vergil had _some_ point. He didn’t have a lot of experience, and it was better for Vergil to top so that he could do what he needed. Still, that didn’t stop Nero from yelping as he felt Vergil’s cock—ridged and wet with sweat and pre-cum—rub between his cheeks. “Hey, what are you—!”

“I am going to fuck you. Was that not clear?”

“You’re not doing it _raw,_ jackass!” Vergil rolled his eyes and thrust his hips again, and Nero’s wings appeared to forcibly stop him. “I’m serious, I don’t want your stupid demon cock tearing my ass in two.”

Vergil growled and pulled back, raising his hand to his mouth. He bit down on his claws, snapping them off and letting them fall on Nero’s stomach before reaching between his thighs. Vergil shuddered, mouth opening as he panted, letting small moans fall from his lips. Nero’s eyes flicked between his mouth and the twitching, full thrusts of Vergil’s hand between his legs, trying to memorize every detail and motion.

With a grimace, Vergil pulled his hand free from his legs, his fingers covered in a thick liquid. Nero tilted his head, sitting up and trying to get a better look. “What is…?”

“Don’t ask.” Vergil responded, pushing Nero back into the pile with his clean, clawed hand. “It will help prepare you, seeing as you need such delicacies.”

“Don’t blame me for your stupid giant demon dick—” Nero’s throat locked up as Vergil shoved two fingers into his ass with little preamble, not waiting for Nero to adjust before scissoring and pushing in further. Nero gasped raggedly, more of Vergil’s intoxicating scent filling his lungs, fogging his mind as he pushed his hips down more.

Vergil’s fingers, though lacking the sharp claws and covered in the odd, slick liquid, were still made of rough scales, which scraped against his walls in an intoxicating mix of drawn out pleasure and sharp, brief spikes of pain. Nero felt his stomach twist as the jagged tips of Vergil’s fingers scratched against his prostate and he moaned, clamping down on Vergil’s fingers and jerking his hips. It was like his brain was stuffed with cotton, and he couldn’t think past the burning need for more, more, _more._

With a low growl, Vergil ripped his fingers out of Nero, the sudden emptiness enough to jolt his mind, though he felt like he felt sluggish. Nero opened his eyes (when did he close them?) to see Vergil hovering above him, lips parted as he stared down at Nero, pupils blown wide, as he shifted his weight. Nero felt Vergil’s hard, scalding cock press against his ass, and a low pulse of panic settled in his stomach. “Whoa, wait—”

Vergil pushed into Nero with one quick, powerful thrust, punching the air out of Nero’s lungs. Nero’s back arched as he let out a silent scream, tightening down on Vergil, who growled and hunched over Nero. 

His sharp teeth brushed against Nero’s collar bone, barely pressing against the skin in a surprising show of restraint. Vergil could snap every bone in his body without even blinking, and Nero wouldn’t be able to retaliate until it was too late. Being so vulnerable and exposed beneath a man who’d done so much to harm him should make Nero terrified.

All it did was stir the fire burning through his body. Nero swallowed, struggling to think through the mix of pain and pleasure, and he tilted his head back, exposing his neck. “Vergil… please.”

Vergil clamped down on Nero’s collarbone, serrated teeth digging in and spilling blood over Nero’s chest, and began to move.

Slow at first, Vergil’s thrusts smoothed out after Nero forced himself to stop clenching down. Vergil’s cock, large and ridged from his scales, was both a blessing and a curse. Nero hadn’t gotten a good look at it, seeing as he was preoccupied at the moment, but he could certainly _feel_ it. It was thick and ridged, with a texture rougher than skin, but not as harsh and threateningly sharp as the scales on his fingers. Even with the prep, it was rough and tight, each thrust creating sparks of pleasure that shot through his body like bullets.

With each slap against Nero’s hips, Vergil grew more confident, speeding up and angling his hips, all while scratching and nipping at Nero’s flesh. Vergil’s nails clawed across his skin, and Nero’s entire torso became marked with dozens of deep, red lines, the pain mixing with pleasure creating keeping Nero on a knife’s edge between ‘too much’ and ‘not enough.’

“Fuck f— _nngh—_ fucking… fuck!” Nero choked out, his voice strangled as each thrust punched the airs out of his lungs. With the small part of his mind that wasn’t _completely_ losing it, he realized he was grateful. He couldn’t imagine what kind of stupid shit he’d be saying if he had more air in his lungs, or if his brain wasn’t too fuck-stupid to think of anything other than curses. _This_ was already bad enough, so he couldn’t imagine what he’d feel if—

Vergil hitched Nero’s hips up, wings curling underneath for added support, and he hit a small, spongy spot inside of Nero that made his toes curl. His back bowed as he let out a long, loud moan as he desperately clawed at the pile. After gathering his breath, Nero bit down on his lips, feeling his cheeks burn in embarrassment, turning his face to try and hide it in one of the pillows.

Nero heard Vergil chuckle before he started moving again, except now _every thrust_ was hitting that spot inside him. Nero gasped raggedly, eyes flying wide as he scrambled for more solid purchase, eventually managing to get a handhold on one of Vergil’s arms. He tried to curl into a ball, hide himself in Vergil’s chest, but a scaled hand pushed him back down, forcing him to look up at Vergil’s face.

 _“Little boy…”_ Vergil hissed, but it felt… _different._ The words felt shaky and rough, as if he hadn’t spoken in months, and his eyes looked off—distant. _“Sweet little boy…”_

Okay, something was definitely wrong. Vergil would never call him ‘sweet.’ “V-Vergil?”

Vergil leaned back down, licking a long, warm stripe from the base of Nero’s neck to his ear, nibbling at the lobe, nearly piercing it. _“I am going to fill you up.”_

Vergil shoved his hips in as hard as he could, hitting Nero’s prostate dead-on, and Nero’s vision flashed white as spurts of come landed on his stomach. His hand flew up to grip one of Vergil’s horns, and he saw flickers of blue energy run up his arms, scales flickering to the surface before returning to his usual, soft skin.

All the while, Vergil continued to pound into him, grunting with each hard slap against Nero’s numb ass. Nero tried to pull away only to receive a snarl as Vergil pulled him closer, not letting him budge an inch. 

Just before it grew to be too much, Vergil buried himself to the hilt, a flood of warmth filling Nero. Nero relaxed, letting go of Vergil’s horns as he sank into the pile, catching his breath. That… wasn’t bad. Rough, yeah, but it was Vergil, and neither of them were at their a-game right now. He let out a breathless chuckle, shifting slightly to get into a more comfortable position, Vergil slipping out slightly as he did.

A harsh growl made him freeze as Vergil pulled him close, pushing himself back into Nero, their hips flush. Vergil’s wings stretched above him before wrapping around them, pressing their chests together. He continued to grumble, restlessly shifting as Nero felt a long, ridged tongue lathed over his face.

“The fuck are you—?” Nero started, only to feel something… _hard_ start to press against him, right where he and Vergil were connected. As Nero tried to sit up to see what the _fuck_ was happening, Vergil ducked his head and pressed the tips of his teeth against his throat, letting out a low hiss.

Nero opened his mouth to curse him out more, only to let out a surprised grunt as the hard thing pushed into him. It was round, big enough to stretch his walls and had a decent weight to it, and fucking shit, if that was what Nero thought it was, he was going to punch Vergil later.

“You’re k-kidding…!” The egg—because that’s the only thing Nero could think this thing was, a fucking _egg—_ pushed in further before settling almost directly on Nero’s prostate. The heavy, constant weight made Nero thrash as overstimulation sent pain and pleasure pulsing through his body. His dick rose to full hardness so quickly his head spun, and he gasped desperately as he felt another egg start to push in.

More and more eggs filled him, Vergil panting and grunting with each one. Nero lost count of just how many after a second orgasm blindsided him, his fingers and toes going numb and his body falling limp as he let Vergil continue, the only things he could focus on was the constantly growing weight filling him as his limbs twitched, overstimulated and exhausted.

After what felt like an eon, Vergil let out one long, final moan pulled out, a small trickle of cum leaking from Nero’s ass and onto the pile. Vergil was kind enough to roll onto his side and not crush Nero under his fat-ass, but it was a small blessing considering how bloated Nero felt. He opened his eyes a crack and peered down at his stomach, which was slightly distended from however many eggs Vergil had laid in him, and his soft cock, cum slowly leaking from its head.

Nero let his head fall back with a tired moan, content to catch his breath for now, his thoughts growing hazy as his limbs grew heavy. He was on the verge of falling asleep when Vergil’s hand, now softer, lacking the scales and razor-sharp claws of his trigger, landed on his stomach. “Nero.”

Nero bit down on a whine as he turned his head away, arm twitching as he thought about smacking Vergil’s hand away, only to realize it was too much effort. “Mmm…”

“Nero, you have to get up.”

“…why?”

“Because we need to get the eggs out.”

He couldn’t restrain his annoyed whine this time as he opened his eyes, seeing Vergil’s disheveled face hovering above him. “Can’t it _wait?”_

“I will need to do this again in the future, and if there isn’t room, you will be in pain. If we wait too long, we’ll never do it.” Vergil’s hand pressed more insistently against Nero’s stomach, and the sudden pressure against his prostate made Nero’s back arch exhaustedly. “Now sit up. It will make this easier.”

“Fucker.” Nero grouched, managing to prop himself up on the unstable pile. The eggs shifted inside him—not much, but enough to make him pause and shiver, clenching down as if to keep them in place. “Why eggs?”

“Because.” Nero waited for further explanation, but instead Vergil maneuvered himself in front of Nero, apparently leaving the topic at that. He reached down, shoving three of his fingers into Nero’s ass and spreading them as wide as he could, ignoring Nero’s choked sounds as he pressed down on Nero’s stomach.

Nero could _feel_ the eggs move, one rolling over his prostate before starting to slip down. Nero growled, feeling familiar energy crackle over his skin as his trigger tried to take hold, only for Nero’s exhaustion and his desire to get them the fuck _out_ to win over. When the egg reached Vergil’s fingers, he took hold and pulled it out, placing it gently in the pile before turning his attention back to Nero.

He did his best to keep count this time, feeling each egg slide out of him felt gross but… _good._ One, two, three, four—each one leaving sending a dizzying rush of relief through his mind. The final egg took a bit of effort to force out, with Nero trying (and failing) to push it out before Vergil huffed, forcing his fingers in just a bit more to grab it and pull it out. 

Finally, _finally_ empty, Nero fell back, letting himself relax. Vergil mumbled something lost on Nero’s hazy, floating mind, and he heard five little thumps on the hardwood floor. He looked over to see Vergil’s eggs, dark blue and slowly growing a layer of tough, dark scales off to the side, away from the pile.

Nero let out a whine and tried to reach for them, but Vergil took his hand and pulled it back. “It’s fine.”

“They’re going to get cold.” Nero didn’t know much about eggs, demonic or otherwise, but they needed to be warm, right?

“They aren’t alive.”

Nero jerked, sore and worn muscles almost screaming in protest as he turned to see Vergil’s stoic mask. _“What?”_

“We would know if they were. We would feel them.” Vergil said, face carefully blank.

“But—but they—”

“Are not _alive._ They never were.” Vergil rolled onto his back, closing his eyes. “Let’s leave it at that for now.”

Nero stared at him for a while longer before turning back to the eggs, the protective scales completely covering them. They were completely black, like lumps of coal, simply sitting there. Nero tapped into his demonic nature a bit more, trying to sense any energy coming off them. He was slowly getting better at sensing demonic energy over days of practice—but the eggs felt like… _nothing._

He placed his hand on his stomach to comfort himself. “You’ll explain later.”

“Mm.” Vergil hummed noncommittally, like the fact that he could lay eggs wasn’t a big deal or anything(or maybe it wasn't? What the fuck even _was_ demon biology at this point. Nero certain didn’t know). 

“You feel better?”

“…Surprisingly, yes.” Vergil cracked his eyes open a sliver and met his gaze. “Thank you, Nero.”

Nero blushed and looked away, scratching his nose. Later, he’d press Vergil for more details about… _all_ of this, really, but for now? Nero sighed and slowly lowered himself into the pile, wiggling a bit to sink in just a bit deeper. It wasn’t a perfect bed—hell, it was barely a _bed—_ but it was soft and smelled pretty okay, so it would be a decent place to sleep for now.

And when Vergil awoke later, whether in the throes of his heat or fully recovered and free of pain, Nero would be happy just knowing that Vergil wasn’t suffering. That was enough for Nero to finally relax after days of worrying over every little thing and fall into a deep, dreamless sleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The big smut piece is done! Now it's time for me to work my ass off writing the next chapter to wrap everything up with a bow and have some nice and weird father-son post-heat feels.
> 
> Hope you all enjoyed this and I'm super sorry for the long wait. I have chapter 3 about halfway written, I just need to iron out a few things to make sure it's all cohesive and works well with the story's tone. However, I will be giving priority to my zine piece for now, so I can't promise the last chapter will come soon. Thank you all for your patience!


	3. Wind Down

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh my _god_ this chapter fought me for every goddamn word. I started writing it, hated what I wrote, hard deleted it and rewrote the _entire_ thing, and I STILL struggled with it.
> 
> Even with all of that said… I now actually LIKE this version of the chapter and what it has, and I’m surprising literally EVERYONE with an early day upload instead of a 2 AM one lol. I hope you all enjoy the long-awaited final chapter of Twenty Plus, and that the wait was worth it!

Vergil woke up irritated, steam hissing between his teeth, feeling like he’d fallen asleep in a pool of lava. His head spun, pulse pounding under his skin, and he let out a low moan as he tried to find a cooler spot on his nest, hissing as the previously soft sheets felt as coarse as sandpaper rubbing against his skin.

“Fuck.” Vergil grunted, shaking from overstimulation. It was one of his more lucid moments of his heat where his arousal had been put on the backburner as his body did its best to make him feel as uncomfortable and in pain as possible. He could feel his lower body cramping, his heightened senses making every small twitch overwhelming, and Vergil wished he could fall back into the bliss of unconsciousness.

He’d experienced this before: his heat temporarily breaking and his arousal abating to force him to focus on his pain. The main difference was that it had happened because his body had become bloated with eggs, and Vergil had no choice but to force them out to have some relief. 

Now, however, there were no eggs to remove. So now, instead of feeling bloated and struggling to move, he felt carved out and hollow, and he somehow hated that even  _ more. _

Perhaps this was a new way for his body to tell him his heat was nearly over. Either way, Vergil would prefer it if his body would stop with the painful reminders before he stabbed himself with Yamato.

Vergil growled and gnawed on one of the pillows, needing to sink his teeth into  _ something. _ His wings flapped, moving stale, humid air around as he dug his claws into the floorboards. He restlessly kneaded at the nest, as if he could somehow work out his frustration by rearranging a few blankets.

A grumble to his left made Vergil freeze, suddenly remembering that he wasn’t alone. Glancing out of the corner of his eyes, he saw Nero slowly waking up. He blinked dazedly at the ceiling before he turned his head. He stared at Vergil lifting his eyebrow before asking in a raspy tone, “Are you… eating a pillow?”

Vergil’s gaze flicked between the pillow in his mouth and Nero’s face before he slowly opened his mouth. The chewed, sodden pillow fell into the pile, and Vergil licked his lips awkwardly. “I wasn’t eating it.”

“Could’ve fooled me.” Nero took a deep breath and released it slowly, stretching his arms and legs. “Do you need to go again?”

“No.” Frankly, the thought of moving made phantom pain spark across his skin, and sex was the furthest thing from his mind at the moment. He folded his wings around his body again, and the rough scales brushed across his tender chest. He hissed and laid as still as possible as he waited for the new wave of pain to pass.

“Okay…?” Nero rolled onto his side, raising his brow at Vergil. Vergil accepted the silence gratefully, focusing on breathing and trying to ignore how he felt like his skin was stretched thin and ready to burst. “So, is this—are you… done? Or is this another weird part of it?”

“My heat hasn’t finished, though it’s receded for the time being.” Vergil explained, trying to hold as still as possible to avoid any more irritation. “It’s… complicated. Go back to sleep and rest as much as you can, I’ll be fine.”

“The last time you told me that, you were lying to my face.” Nero grunted as he sat up, a slight tremble in his arms. “Fuck, I think you broke my ass.”

“All the more reason for you to stop pestering me.”

“Not until I know what’s wrong with you this time. Seriously, are you hungry? Thirsty? I’m pretty sure there’s food around here, somewhere.”

“Leave it  _ be _ , Nero.” Vergil huffed, his wings stretching up towards the ceiling. Though it was an involuntary action to try and intimidate Nero, it had the added benefit of cooling Vergil down slightly, and he kept them raised.

“Nope.” Nero looked around before summoning his wings in a flash of blue light. One of the hands darted across the room and returned with a bag of potato chips, waving it in front of Vergil’s face like a slab of meat. “Does the grumpy, geriatric fucker want some chips? Want a lil’ snacky?”

“I  _ will _ kill you.” Vergil growled as he smacked the bag away. Realizing that Nero was not dropping the topic any time soon, but would also annoy him incessantly until he learned what was wrong, Vergil gave in. “If this is the only way to get some peace and quiet, I feel hot and uncomfortable.”

Nero sat quietly, staring intently at Vergil, as if a pointed look could make him say more. “That’s it?”

“That’s it. I’ll be fine in a few minutes, and it’s pointless to stay up when you should be saving your strength for one of my less lucid moments.” Vergil shifted with a hiss, his wings twitching restlessly above him. They slowly began to fold against his back as his body realized there wasn’t an immediate threat nearby and keeping them raised was taxing on his limited strength—

Before snapping out as Nero’s spectral wings wrapped around his waist and hoisted him into the air. Vergil hissed, flashing his fangs as irrational fear surged through him, summoned swords flickering around him.  _ “What _ are you—!”

“Calm down for five seconds.” Nero huffed as he slowly stood, keeping Vergil suspended above the ground. “You’re hot, decently aware of what’s happening, and not about to jump me. I’m covered in so much gross shit I don’t want to think about and would really,  _ really _ like to feel clean. A shower would do us both a world of good.”

Vergil growled, the sound rumbling deep in his chest. He would admit that, as infuriating as it was, Nero had a point. They were both filthy and, given that Vergil’s trigger was covered with scales and leather skin, the cool water would likely be the quickest way to lower his temperature. The  _ problem  _ was that every instinct in Vergil’s brain was screaming at him to stay in his nest. The nest was his, and safe, and everything beyond it was a potential threat waiting for Vergil to expose himself—

Vergil ground his teeth and did his best to shake off the irrational fear trying to consume him. He forcibly reminded himself that there weren’t any threats, he was safe, and he  _ needed _ the shower more than he needed to stay in the nest.

Vergil bit the inside of his cheek, forced himself to take a deep breath, and said, “Fine.”

“Okay.” Nero responded with the tone one would use dealing with a child calming down from a tantrum. “Now, if I put you down, are you going to follow me, or do I have to carry you?”

“I can walk.” Vergil said, only to choke on his tongue as Nero abruptly dropped him, catching himself on reflex. He glared at Nero, sorely tempted to shoot a summoned sword at him in retribution.

“I’ll get the water started.” Nero said, grabbing a discarded blanket and wrapping it around his waist. “If you’re not in the bathroom in five minutes, I’ll come carry you in.”

“Again, I can  _ walk.” _ Vergil growled as Nero left the room, the door to the bathroom creaking open. A few seconds later, the pipes rattled as he turned the water on, and Vergil followed, pausing at the doorway as a fresh wave of panic washed over him.

Every atom of his body  _ screamed _ to go stay in the bedroom and return to the nest. Vergil gripped the door frame until the wood creaked, a low growl leaving him.

“You alright?” Nero called over the sound of the shower, his head popping around the bathroom door briefly to look at him. “Because if you don’t get in here soon, I’m going in without you.”

_ You are better than being  _ afraid _ of leaving the bedroom, _ Vergil berated himself. He  _ wanted _ to go into the shower, and he wanted to stay near Nero, but he felt paralyzed as he stood just behind the door frame, watching Nero’s shadow flit across the floor as he moved around the bathroom.

It took him another moment to gather himself and push his anxiety aside. He pried his claws out of the doorframe and hastily walked across the hall, feeling his heartbeat pick up with each step he took.

“‘Bout time.” Nero joked as Vergil entered the bathroom, one foot raised to enter the tub. “You okay if I go in first?”

“It’s… fine.” Vergil choked out, wings and fingers twitching restlessly. The bathroom door was open, but Vergil still felt caged in, struggling to keep his breath steady as he choked on the steam. “Enjoy it.”

Nero frowned, but didn’t object, stepping under the shower spray. Vergil watched as the tension fell from Nero’s shoulders, lolling his head as the warm water soaked his hair and rolled down his body, and Vergil was suddenly struck by the realization that he shouldn’t be here, shouldn’t be monopolizing Nero’s time and privacy. He turned on his heel, intending to leave before he felt a cool presence wrap around his wrist.

“Where’re you going?” Nero asked. Vergil glanced down to see a familiar spectral claw holding onto him, its touch verging on gentle.

“I thought you should enjoy some time to yourself.” Vergil said, his trigger’s distortion hiding the shake in his voice. He felt like a child, wanting to run to his room and burrow under his covers to hide away from his frustrated and anxious thoughts.

“Yeah, and if you leave, there’s no way I’m getting you in here again.” Nero’s claw tugged Vergil closer to the tub, and he found himself turning with the motion. “C’mon. Even if you aren’t melting anymore, then you should at least clean up.”

Vergil grumbled at the handholding, but let Nero pull him towards the shower. The claws disappeared once Vergil was close enough to step in, Nero giving him the option to step in under his own power. 

Vergil was careful, keeping his wings tightly wrapped around his body and maintaining distance between them. The shower splashed against his feet, the sensation weird as the water hit between his toes—a spot that lacked many protective scales. Nero rolled his eyes at him and grabbed Vergil’s arm (this time with his human hand) and tugged him under the water, minimizing the space between them.

Any exclamation Vergil was planning to make died on his tongue as the shower’s spray steamed against his scaled chest, a testament to how much heat he was exuding. The instant, cool relief drowned out his spiralling thoughts, and he ducked under the spray fully, flapping his wings to get as much water on him as possible.

“You look like a bird.” Nero chuckled, taking a step back. “Want me to get out?”

“No.” Vergil carefully extended his wing to wrap it around Nero and pull him closer. Though he was remiss to share the shower now, he wanted Nero close, and he nuzzled at Nero’s shoulder, licking up some stray droplets. “Stay.”

Nero shivered as Vergil’s hot breath brushed against his pulse as he reached for the shampoo bottle precariously balanced on the bathtub’s rim. “Alright… just don’t bite me.”

Vergil barely processed what Nero said, focused on getting as much of the shower’s water to wash over him as possible. The harsh, chemical scent of shampoo briefly snapped him out of his musings before he buried his face in Nero’s shoulder, gently rutting his hips against his thigh. Now that one source of his pain had been dealt with, his heat was returning in full force, and Nero being here  (willing, strong, demon,  _ mate) _ was only speeding it up.

“Damn,” Vergil cursed, knowing he’d have to back away soon to let Nero finish cleaning himself before he was completely lost. It was the last thing he wanted, but he also knew that fucking Nero in the shower would lead to them passing out into the cold, unforgiving porcelain of the tub.

“Do you need to… y’know…” Nero asked as he scrubbed shampoo into his hair.

“I can leave.” Vergil replied. It would be best for both of them if Vergil went back to his nest. Nero would have his moment of peace in the shower, and Vergil could be left to his own devices. Despite knowing this, Vergil didn’t leave, his wing still wrapped around Nero like a cloak.

“And get all grumpy and defensive again?” Nero rolled his eyes, stepping under the showerhead to rinse out the shampoo. “The last thing I want to do is have to debate you into having sex with me,  _ again.  _ Give me a moment to finish up with my hair and then we can go back to the pile.”

Vergil felt a small amount of irritation burn in his chest. He could already feel himself slipping into mindlessness, and he growled and rutted his hips against Nero’s thigh, his sheath parting in interest. “If you do not force me out, right now, it will be too late to leave.”

Nero stared up at him before stepping back. Vergil expected a punch, or for Nero’s spectral arms to appear and throw him out. Instead, Nero dipped his head under the shower, rinsed out most of the suds in his hair, and stepped back into Vergil’s space. “Hair’s done.”

It was the closest Vergil would get to an outright invitation, and he took it, surging forward with a growl to kiss Nero. His serrated teeth nicked Nero’s lips, and he lapped up Nero’s blood before pushing into his mouth and twining their tongues together. Vergil could smell when Nero’s scent shifted in interest, the way his heart skipped and raced, feel when Nero’s cock pressed against his thigh.

He pulled away with a growl to gather his breath, feeling his warmth pool in his stomach. He felt a pulse as the slit between his legs opened, exposing the sensitive flesh to the shower’s humid air. Vergil paused, rutting his hips forward to try and coax his cock out, but it remained stubbornly sheathed, a pulse of hunger and arousal sending slick rolling down the insides of his thighs.

He shouldn’t be  _ this _ surprised, but he found himself pulling away from Nero in shock. He’d had brief moments during his prior heats where his cock refused to leave its sheath, his body consumed with a dire need for  _ something _ inside him, filling him until he was fit to choke.

The experience wasn’t much better. With his cock, he could cum at least a few times before the pain grew overwhelming, but his vagina was…  _ complicated,  _ for lack of a better word. It simply led to a prolonged torture, where Vergil would end up rutting his hips against any surface he could find, scared to tear himself with his claws, but desperate for something,  _ anything _ to relieve the aching need between his legs.

“What’s wrong?” Nero panted when Vergil paused, shaking some water out of his eyes. Vergil stared at him, his slightly addled mind connecting the dots as his cunt twitched, clenching on air.

“Nothing.” Vergil replied, pulling Nero away from the wall. Nero yelped and flailed, almost making Vergil slip before he lowered them both to the floor. He only calmed when Vergil straddled Nero’s hips, and even then, his expression was scrunched up in confusion. “Change of plans.”

Vergil took a moment to admire Nero’s cock. It wasn’t thick, but it made up for that with its length and the curve, and the prominent vein that ran down the underside. Vergil ground his hips down, dragging his slick-soaked lips over Nero’s cock and shivering as he felt the vein pulse with Nero’s quickened heartbeat.

Nero’s eyes widened in shock, his mouth parting as he choked out a surprised “ _ oh.” _

Vergil smirked before lowering himself, hissing as the stretch burned. The pain blurred and mixed with the bubbling pleasure of Vergil’s heat, sending his mind spinning. It took all of his concentration to not slam his hips down and take Nero to the hilt. Instead, Vergil slowly raised himself up, the head of Nero’s cock nearly slipping out, before lowering himself and taking more, taking his time and bringing them closer and closer together.

Once Nero was fully sheathed in him, Vergil let out a long moan, the shower thundering against his back. He curled over Nero as his glowing veins pulsed in time with his racing heart. The head of Nero’s cock could just barely nudge against a tender spot within him, and Vergil’s hips twitched down, as if he could somehow get Nero further inside him.

Nero was tense against the back of the tub, murky water covering his abs and hiding his trembling hips. His fingers flexed against Vergil’s hips, the beginnings of claws threatening to pierce through his armored hide.

With a grunt, Nero’s spectral arms flickered into existence and moved past Vergil, reaching for something behind him. The shower turned off with a squeak from the faucet, and Vergil felt the water around his thighs begin to recede.

“I-I’m not drown— _ nngh, fuck— _ drowning today.” Nero said as he bent his legs, thrusting lightly up into Vergil. “You’re so  _ wet.” _

“Shut up.” Vergil hissed as he clenched down, feeling slick gush out into the draining water. Nero moaned, the sound echoing in the tiny bathroom as he gripped Vergil’s waist, pulling him down despite being fully seated. His arms wrapped around Vergil’s back and clawed thin lines into his scales; not hard enough to pierce, but just enough to send pinpricks of pain dancing down his spine, making Vergil tighten and rock his hips, back and forth.

Nero cursed as his legs kicked out, water sloshing around them. His head thumped against the back of the tub, exposing his pale, supple throat as he growled. His wings flared as energy danced across his body, skin tinting blue as his trigger skimmed close to the surface. His hair lengthened a few inches, enough for Vergil to grab and tug his head back before sinking his teeth into Nero’s neck.

Nero let out a guttural yell as Vergil felt a flood of warmth fill him. Vergil’s walls quivered and he slammed his eyes shut, his body shaking as a wave of euphoria pulsed out from his core. His muscles tensed and relaxed sporadically, and Vergil let his body sag, his teeth sliding free from Nero’s throat as he rode the high, his body milking Nero’s cock for every drop of cum.

With his body temporarily sated, Vergil pulled back and examined the bite mark. Thankfully, it appeared superficial, with most of the damage done only to the muscle, and he let out a sigh of relief.  _ Too close… _

“Fuck,  _ please _ tell me I’m not filling you up with some gross eggs right now.” Nero asked hurriedly, gasping as he tried to look down his body, as if he’d be able to see what was happening inside Vergil.

“You aren’t. I can assure you, you would be more than aware if you were.” Vergil answered, shifting his hips. They both hissed at the sensitivity, and Vergil did his best to lift himself slowly. When Nero’s cock slipped free, a rush of slick and cum leaked from his hole. Vergil groaned as he felt arousal continue to stir in his gut, the promise of a second round in the near future.

Nero struggled to catch his breath, attempting to relax against the wall of the bathtub as they basked in the afterglow. He grimaced, looking down as his sweaty skin and the mixture of his and Vergil’s cum. “So much for getting  _ clean.” _

“Apologies, I…” Vergil cut himself off as a hot flash slammed into him. He let out a heavy breath and moved away from Nero, curling over himself and hissing a string of curses towards his body.  _ Why _ couldn’t he shift into his human form to sweat  _ some _ of his fever out?

He knew the answer: his heat corresponded with his demonic form, and he generated so much energy he  _ couldn’t _ switch back, leaving him overheated and overstimu—

Vergil jerked as he felt Nero’s soft, blissfully cool hand wrap around his cock, free from its sheath at last. He gripped the edges of the tub, the porcelain cracking under his claws. His body was already overwhelmed, sensitive after the recent orgasm, and Vergil had the sluggish realization there was a very real risk he could lose control. “Nero.”

“What? You look ready to go again, and we’re already in the tub.” Nero reasoned, thumbing Vergil’s leaking slit and smearing precum around his head. “Is it weird that I want to taste this?”

Vergil didn’t reply, slipping further into madness with each stroke and twist of Nero’s hand. Vergil felt something within him  _ shift, _ the sensation surprisingly pleasant, and he could feel his rational thoughts shatter into a million pieces.

_ “Yesss.” _ Vergil hissed, grabbing Nero’s arm and thrusting into Nero’s hand.

“Yes, it’s weird, or yes, you liked that?”

“Again. More.  _ Need it.” _ Vergil snarled, grabbing Nero’s biceps and pulling him close. His grit teeth brushed against Nero’s collarbone, feeling Nero’s quickening pulse, and he resisted the urge to bite down and tear and take and take and  _ take _ . Instead, he flexed his hips, feeling his cock bob as slick and precum sullied his scales. “Need it, need it,  _ need it.” _

Nero laughed—if Vergil were in his right mind, he would have hit him for that—and picked up the pace. His spectral claws wrapped around Vergil’s hips, keeping him from moving too wildly, while his remaining human hand rubbed his thigh consolingly. Vergil let out a high-pitched whine and his wings flailed, his body torn between pulling away or pushing further into the mind-melting bliss that Nero was providing.

“There we go.” Nero mused, reaching up to wrap his hand around Vergil’s horn, sending shivers running down the back of his neck. “You’re always such a tough jackass, but now, you can’t really keep that act up, huh.”

Vergil whimpered, forced to take what Nero would give him as his hips twitched frantically. He could feel a new clutch of eggs moving down, pressing against his pelvis, but there wasn’t anything for Vergil to lay them  _ in, _ and he wasn’t sure what would happen.

“Please,” Vergil begged, his pride all but vanished as he tried to drag Nero closer. It felt like he was drowning and melting at the same time. He needed more, he needed less, he couldn’t tell what he needed more. “Please,  _ n-need _ — _ please.” _

“C’mon, Vergil.” Nero leaned up and nipped at Vergil’s chin, his blunt human teeth not even denting his leather-like skin, but it still make Vergil whine. “Let  _ go.” _

Vergil’s back arched, shaking off Nero’s hands as the final dam of his resistance shattered. Orgasm swallowed him whole, his vision whiting out and only able to hear the roar of his racing blood. When he’d managed to scrape together some of his wit, he was curled over Nero, hips twitching as the first egg slotted into place and began to move.

“Oh, that looks  _ weird.” _ Nero said, watching Vergil’s dick with rapt attention. He kept stroking, careful to avoid the bulge of the first egg and prolonging Vergil’s pleasure. Vergil’s wings flapped pitifully as he curled, pushing his head under Nero’s chin, hiding his face as the first egg landed on Nero’s lap, and a second began to move.

Time passed sluggishly, Vergil measuring it by how long it took for each egg to leave him. It was a slow-going process—perhaps because his body instinctively knew he was fucking into a hand, and not a womb or willing partner—and by the time the final egg had been coaxed out, Vergil was shaking with exertion. It wasn’t a painful process, or even particularly arduous, all things considered, but it never failed to completely drain him of his energy by the end.

Vergil relaxed, letting his body sink and relax on top of Nero’s. The small pile of eggs was awkwardly smushed between them, but he could care less, simply focused on breathing and gathering his wits. He could feel Nero’s hand repeatedly running from the top of his scalp to the back of his head, the action soothing and giving him an anchor to focus on.

It took Vergil a moment to realize he was purring, subsonic vibrations deep in his chest, the sound amplified in the tight confines of the tub. It took him longer to realize that he  _ shouldn’t _ be making such an embarrassing noise, and he had the brief, delirious wish that Nero wouldn’t understand the noise he was making.

Judging by how Nero was responding with a purr of his own, Vergil hoped that he was simply following the pull of his instincts, and nothing more.

“Are you back with me?” Nero asked. Vergil opened his mouth and a sound similar to a  _ mew _ left his lips.

They both froze. Vergil would be willing to bet real money that, if he had normal, human skin, his cheeks would be bright red in embarrassment. Nero’s body trembled under him and, when he spoke, his voice was strained. “Did you just—”

“No. Vergil said, perhaps a little too hurried. Nero snorted, and Vergil managed to lift himself up enough to glare at Nero. “Shut up.”

“I’m just saying, that sounded really…”

“Shut. Up.” Vergil snarled, grabbing Nero’s waist and curling his fingers, threatening to pierce and leave deep punctures—deeper than the thin red lines he’d made earlier, crisscrossing his chest like a harness.

“Okay, okay, jeez.” Nero sighed, relaxing against the bathtub. He hadn’t stopped…  _ petting _ Vergil, his fingers still sliding down his scalp, threading between the scales and sending pleasant shivers down his spine. “We need to get out of the tub.”

“We do.”

“…So, uh, don’t know if you’ve noticed this, but you’re on top of me.”

“I am.”

“So that means you have to get up first.”

“And I will.”

“When, in the next century?” Nero shoved at his shoulder—not harshly, but hard enough to get the point across. “Seriously, get the fuck up already.”

Vergil stomped down the irrational urge to whine. Nero was right; they couldn’t spend the rest of his heat in a cramped tub, but the short walk from the tub to his nest felt like a thousand-mile journey. Vergil barely had enough strength to remain conscious, let alone stand up. If Vergil was being honest, he was sorely tempted to fall asleep right now, damn whatever Nero wanted.

“Well, alright, if you’re going to _play_ _dead...”_ Nero said after a long silence had passed. He began to sit up, forcing Vergil’s limp body to move with him. Once he was mostly upright, he managed to get a decent enough grip on the tub to lift himself up slightly. Vergil let this happen without complaint, lax and half-asleep.

He startled when Nero’s spectral arms shifted to hold his waist, then lift him into the air. Vergil flailed, not liking the sudden vulnerability, especially as Nero rose to his full height and began carrying him out of the bathroom.

“I can walk.” Vergil growled, mirroring their earlier argument. It carried less bite behind it, the fight thoroughly taken out of him from his exhaustion, but he still wanted to make the point.

“Yeah, yeah, cry me a river.” Nero said, grabbing a towel from the rack as wrapping it around his hips before leaving, carrying Vergil behind him. Vergil glared holes in the back of Nero’s head and silently vowed to make the boy pay for his insolence—

Vergil’s stomach let out a displeased grumble, not loud enough to alert Nero, but enough to alert Vergil.

…He would make Nero pay  _ after _ he found something to eat. Then everything was fair game.

* * *

A few days passed, filled with rough sex and bouts of painful cramps where Vergil could barely move. It hurt, and sucked, and there were far too many moments where Vergil felt like every atom of his being was ripping itself apart. Nero did his best to comfort him when his body locked up and was wracked with painful tremors, usually either by forcing him to eat or drink something, or riding Vergil until he came and the primal part of his mind took over and powered through it.

Vergil knew that it was over when he woke with cotton tongue and a bad taste in the back of his throat, every muscle in his body sore and aching, but finally,  _ blessedly _ cool. He still felt disgusting, both inside and out (he’d most likely burn the sheets that had made up his nest), but his heat was finally,  _ finally _ over.

He wasn’t usually one to pray, but he still sent a mental ‘thank you’ to whatever sick bastard watched over him. While this heat had certainly been the least painful one he could remember, that didn’t mean it was a pain _ less _ experience, so to wake up and not feel  _ completely _ terrible was something close to a miracle.

A snore to his right reminded him of why that was the case. Vergil peeled his sleep-heavy eyes open and turned his head to see Nero fast asleep. His lips were parted, a line of drool trailing down his cheek and soaking the pillow beneath his head. His short hair was greasy and pulled into messy clumps, likely from Vergil pulling it many,  _ many _ times to bite and suck at his throat. His limbs were spread out like a starfish, his left hand resting on Vergil’s stomach.

It was strangely intimate. Vergil had gotten used to Nero looking at him with a mask of indifference, anger, or, recently, pleasure. Seeing him asleep, relaxed and uncaring of who saw him, felt… odd, but also something he should treasure. Vergil took a few more minutes of silence to admire him and commit the sight to his memory before he attempted to sit up.

His muscles were heavy from sleep and littered with lingering aches, and Vergil felt vaguely sick, like his head was weighed down with stones. Despite this, he managed to sit up and eventually stumble to his feet. He found his coat and threw it over his shoulders, wearing it like a cape to keep in some warmth before leaving the bedroom and traipsing downstairs.

Entering the kitchen, Vergil drank a glass of water before filling a rusty kettle and placing it on the stove. As the water boiled, Vergil flitted through the cupboards, finding a Chai tea bag and a clean mug for himself. As he searched, he briefly mused on what kind of tea Nero would like; Oolong, perhaps? Or maybe Earl Gray? Regardless, he would likely enjoy some tea as well—

Vergil felt his thoughts stutter to a halt as he paused, hand half-raised to his collection of teabags. Where had  _ that _ come from? Vergil vaguely recalled that Nero had forced him to eat some snacks and drink water in the brief interims of his heat, but that was hardly enough to warrant Vergil being so…  _ domestic _ towards him.

…Then again, without Nero’s actions, Vergil would likely be starving and severely dehydrated by now. A cup of tea seemed too small to repay him for the past several days of assistance.

Vergil pursed his lips. He never liked having  _ debts, _ but Nero’s unnecessary ‘obligation’ to help gave him little choice otherwise. Acting like nothing had happened would do neither of them favors, and shared heats were not something to brush off with such callousness.

Sighing, Vergil lowered his hand and waited for the kettle to boil. While he could make Nero tea, the boy was firmly asleep, and disturbing him felt rude. When he awoke, Vergil would help Nero with the recovery and clean-up—he doubted Nero would want to look at the pile of eggs, let alone dispose of them—and would owe Nero a favor for later _. _

Just as the first few wisps of steam rose from the kettle’s nozzle, Vergil heard the lock on the office doors click open. Vergil paused his tea preparation, lowering his body into a crouch and raising his hands, prepared to summon Yamato and cut down any intruder, whether they be demons or a well-meaning human.

The loud, overdramatic coughing made Vergil relax. It wasn’t a demon, or a cocky hunter coming to kill him. “Holy  _ shit, _ what did you do to make my office smell like an orgy?”

“Make an educated guess, Dante.” Vergil called out, deciding to pull on his jacket and buckle it closed. While he wasn’t  _ opposed _ to Dante’s advances, he certainly wasn’t in the mood, and leaving himself almost entirely bare would invite trouble.

“Did you two hate-fuck while I was gone?” The floorboards creaked as Dante came closer, eventually appearing in the kitchen doorway. Vergil glanced at him out of the corner of his eye, seeing his clothes stained with dried blood and ash, a tired slouch in his shoulders. “I’ll be honest, I figured you two would wreck the office, but not by having a sex marathon.”

“Plans change.” Vergil shrugged as the kettle began to hiss, and he poured his mug, watching as the water began to brown from the tea. “I’d advise you to try to be quiet for the next few hours. Nero is currently upstairs, asleep, and I’d like for him to rest without interruption.”

Dante was oddly silent as he continued to make his tea. He slowly entered the kitchen, walking up to Vergil and pulling down the collar of his coat. Vergil expected to hear a snide comment about his lack of clothes, or a crude joke about what Vergil and Nero had  _ really _ done while he was gone.

Instead, Dante reached up and… poked Vergil’s cheek.

Vergil froze and looked up from his mug of tea to glare at Dante. “What are you doing?”

“Just making sure.” Dante shrugged, as if he hadn’t done the most  _ baffling _ thing Vergil had seen him do since returning to the human world.

“Making sure  _ what.” _

“That someone hadn’t swooped in and taken my brother’s place.” Dante proceeded to poke his arm next. “You sure you’re okay?”

“I’m  _ fine.” _ Vergil rolled his eyes, but he could see why Dante was confused. When he left, Vergil and Nero were at each other’s throats and were seconds away from tearing the office to shreds, and he came back to Nero peacefully asleep and Vergil calmly making tea _. _ “I’m just… in a good mood.”

“You’re  _ never _ in a good mood, though. Is ‘Nero’s asleep’ code for ‘I killed him a week ago and have never been happier?’”

“We both know you would put an end to me if that were the case.” Vergil sipped his tea, mostly to keep himself from saying anything too stupid. While it was true that Vergil tended to be more…  _ homicidal _ when he handled his problems (especially when it related to their family), Vergil knew that Dante would be furious if he harmed Nero too horrifically. Besides, Vergil could admit that he tolerated Nero, and killing him would be a waste. “If you  _ must _ know, my heat came, and Nero felt it necessary to help me.”

“…oh.” Dante said, now visibly uncomfortable. “So, uh… I wasn’t that far off with the marathon sex guess, huh?”

“You were not.” Vergil turned, keeping his expression neutral. “And before you start—no, I do not blame you for not being here. Neither of us were aware my heat was approaching, let alone that I could even  _ have _ heats anymore.”

“Oh, thank god—”

“I  _ do, _ however—” Vergil cut his brother off before he could relax too much, turning around and holding his mug in both hands. “—blame you for leaving me here with  _ Nero _ for the first heat I’ve had in years.”

“Oh come on, the kid’s not an expert, but couldn’t have been  _ that  _ bad a lay.”

“That’s not what I mean. Nero’s performance was… adequate.” Better than adequate, really, but Dante didn’t need to know that, and Vergil certainly didn’t want to linger on those thoughts at the moment. “It’s simply that my addled state may have made me act… differently and I don’t want Nero to base his entire perception of me on the past days of hormone-laden sex.”

Dante gave him a shit-eating grin. “You’re  _ embarrassed.” _

“Dante—”

“You are! You’re embarrassed you couldn’t act like a tough guy around your kid the entire time!”

Summoned Swords flickered to life around Vergil’s head before flying at Dante, stopping only centimeters away from his skin. Dante raised his hands in surrender, but his grin only dimmed to a faint smirk. “I’ll shut up now.”

“You better.” Vergil growled as he let the swords shatter, leaning back on the counter as a wave of exhaustion washed over him—a testament to how his heat had taken a toll on his body. “And I expect a favor in exchange for dealing with Nero’s noble nonsense.”

“Okay,  _ but,”  _ Dante attempted to placate him as he sauntered over to the fridge, taking out a bottle of beer. “To be fair, I  _ really _ thought that you two would talk or fight the entire time I was gone. At worse I thought I’d come back to a bloodbath, not some post-sex awkwardness.”

Vergil grunted, continuing to drink his tea. While he didn’t want to concede the point, he could feel a headache coming on from the constant back-and-forth that was sure to occur if they continued. “There were… attempts. To talk.”

“By you, or by Nero?”

“Both, at points.” Most of the time, Vergil had been needled into talking by Nero. Dante didn’t need to know that, however. “They were largely ineffective, considering that most of the time I was in too much pain to contribute anything, or so horny I could barely think straight.”

“Mm.” Dante hummed, popping off the cap of his beer and taking a swig. “So… did’ya claim him?”

Vergil felt his teeth ache, a phantom reminder of Nero’s skin and flesh yielding as he bit down, rich blood filling his mouth like a sacred ambrosia. “No.”

“Didn’t want to?”

“…No.”

Dante didn’t need to know just how much, in those past days, how much he  _ ached _ for it. Marking Nero as his, even temporarily with bruises and bites that would heal in an hour, felt  _ right. _ He imagined that a permanent claim, like the one he and his brother shared, would feel like a long-lost puzzle piece sliding into place.

“Ah,” Dante nodded his head sagely, as if he could somehow learn everything from a one-word response. “He’s finally wooed you.”

_ “What?” _ Vergil chuckled incredulously, shaking his head and drinking more of his tea. “That’s ridiculous, he hasn’t ‘wooed’ me.”

“Yup, he’s wooed you.” Dante saddled up next to Vergil and leaned on his shoulder with a sigh. “His puppy dog eyes and ‘fuck you I’ll do what I want’ attitude has wiggled its way into your heart.”

“He has  _ not.” _ Vergil shoved him away, glaring as Dante laughed. “I hope you are aware of how utterly stupid that entire spiel sounded.”

“Maybe, but it’s how I felt after I met the kid.” Dante smirked, the sudden confession stunning Vergil into silence. Dante tipped his beer to Vergil before he left the kitchen, calling over his shoulder. “Dibs on the shower if you haven’t taken one already!”

Vergil sighed, finishing his tea and leaving his cup in the sink to clean later. He heard the stairs creak under Dante’s weight, then the click of the bathroom door. With a mischievous smirk, Vergil left the kitchen with a grin, waiting in the lobby for—

“Oh, what the  _ fuck!” _ Vergil heard the muffled yell from upstairs before Dante appeared over the banister. “Really? You left a bunch of eggs in the tub?”

Vergil shrugged, feeling his lips twitch into a smirk. “We were preoccupied. Enjoy your ‘dibbed’ shower, brother dearest.”

“Asshole.” Dante groaned, but turned and disappeared down the hall. Vergil allowed himself an isolated smile, feeling an odd warmth settle in his chest as he decided he would start the arduous process of cleaning up while Nero was still asleep, determined to make progress, if only so Nero wouldn’t pester him when he woke.

And, if Vergil glanced over at his son’s soft, unguarded expression every now and again while placing the eggs into a trash bag, it was to make sure he was still asleep, and nothing more.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Aaand that’s the end! I know, I know, a nearly five month wait for this was painful, but it was even more painful for me to write it, trust me.
> 
> For those curious, I already have parts of the next fic planned and written (it was a welcome reprieve from the pain of writing Vergil POV and shower sex… truly…), but it’ll be a while before it’s up. I will say that it’s going to be… slightly less sex focused? There’s going to be sex, but like, as an add-on, not the main event. It’s also going to be _looong_ so I want to get a fair amount of it written before posting just to speed up the process a bit.
> 
> Now I can FINALLY download and play Vergil’s DLC (yes I’ve been waiting this whole time so I could reward myself for finishing the fic) and treat myself!!!!! Hell yeah baby!!!!


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